It’s late
pupils pounding
feet barely intact
fingers mauled,
ring edges
still imprinted
It’s late
She can hear the ground beat
Her body sways to its rhythm
the pulse of the storm
it speaks!
It’s late
just a couple more steps
She thought, encouraged, hoped
just a couple more steps
It’s late
warmth rushes in
a stampede of silence
Her inspiration, faith, and motivation
lie on the poor excuse for a couch
It’s late
Exhaustion dare not fit the description
but the tangled curls
the scabbed knees
those butter soft cheeks
that anointing of innocence…
It’s late
She’s pushing on uneven ground
Her balance, unstable
but she’s found the ground
and with every heaping step
Her no longer secure parts
drowse off in despair
but her faith takes command
It’s late
but her faith takes command